


Potions Master

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blaise Zabini is a Good Friend, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Harry is a Little Shit, Minor Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini, Pining, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Set in 5th year, draco is so done with him, enemies-ish idk, like if u squint, more like enemies from dracos pov, no voldy bc i hate him, the marauders r alive nd well :"), very minor tho. its like 2 secs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28047114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Draco and Harry never liked each other. Or at least Draco never liked Harry, but that's besides the point. They never liked each other. One's top of all classes and the other's Quidditch captain -things that each of them want for themselves. So when the hostility is broken when Harry's suddenly much friendlier than usual, it sends Draco insane, and he wants it to stop.Or does he?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	1. Strange

Draco didn’t know when it started. 

Maybe it was when they were eating breakfast in the Great Hall, and Pansy was complaining about something trivial- probably about Granger getting on her nerves, when it happened. Draco rolled his eyes and sighed, wanting to look _anywhere_ else but Parkinson, when his eyes met with Harry’s three tables over. Draco scowled, of course, hoping for a similar reaction from Harry, but it never came. The boy only smiled, waved, and went back to his conversation with the Weasel. 

Draco blinked. He wasn’t sure if what he just saw was real or something his mind conjured up. He rubbed his eyes and looked across Blaise at the Gryffindor table again, but Harry didn’t look up anymore after that, and Draco was left to frown and wonder what the hell that was all about. 

“...And did you _hear_ what she called me, Draco? Draco?” Pansy snapped her fingers in front of the blonde’s eyes, scoffing when he jumped in his seat. “Were you listening?” 

Draco blinked again and his eyes jumped between Pansy and Blaise, before grabbing all his things and muttering things about studying and homework under his breath. Harry was staring at him again- not just with a smile, but a _wide_ one, and Draco absolutely could not deal with that right now. He hurried out the Great Hall and spared a glance back at the Gryffindors; and to his dismay, Potter was yelling goodbye with a cheery grin. 

He whipped his head back and almost flew out into the corridors back to his common room, sufficiently weirded out. He decided not to come out of his common room at all for the rest of the day because he was sure he’d get into trouble for punching stupid Potter’s face if he saw him again. It was probably the weirdest thing that ever happened to him in his life, and he really hoped Potter’s eyesight had become worse and he was waving at someone else. And even if it wasn’t, Draco would only allow it once. He _will_ punch him if it happens again. 

It happened again. 

They were in Potions, and Harry had to reach over him to get his powdered Griffin claw when the idiot dared to smile and _tap his shoulder._

“Could you get me the claw?” He asked with that stupid smile on his face, and Draco was more than ready to raise his fist. But the Weasel was looking at him, so he took a deep breath and grit his teeth. _Merlin help me,_ he thought, before reluctantly handing the claw over.

“Thanks,” Potter smiled again, and Draco only grunted. He’d already lost points a few weeks ago for nearly breaking Longbottom’s wand, and despite wanting to splinch Harry he had to at least keep the House points at its current number. Wasting 20 points on Longbottom had the entire house not speaking to him for two days and that was two days too much for him. 

They worked in (thank Merlin) silence for a few minutes until he felt a hand on his shoulder _again_ and he spun around with a glare which he hoped was scary- but Potter was beaming at him and pointed at the salamander blood that was _obviously_ within his reach. “Can you get the salamander blood too? I’m really sorry, it's _really_ far away,” he dared to pout, and Draco glanced down at the hand on his shoulder. Draco flicked it off, before pushing the jar of blood towards him with a groan. 

“Thank-” 

“Shut up.” 

Draco thought that would be it. That’s _got_ to be it, right? One can’t possibly hold a smile for that long. But day after day, stupid Potter would act as if they were the best of friends and constantly bug him for the smallest of things. 

“Draco, how was your test?” 

“..Why do you want to know?” 

“Well, you’re so good at Potions, so I thought you could help me.” 

Draco was astonished. This definitely had to warrant a cell in Azkaban. 

“What? No. Go ask- go ask Granger or something, isn’t she a know-it-all?” Draco spluttered. This was insane. Potter was going mad. 

“Well, she got Exceeds Expectations and you got a.. you got an Outstanding!” Harry grinned, and Draco found his paper in Potter’s hands and he fumbled to get it back but the idiot had already shoved it in his bag, and was walking away. “See you tomorrow in the Great Hall!” 

Draco couldn’t believe it. Potter had really gone mad. This was- this was incorrigible. Draco won’t show up; yes, that would be perfect. He _will not_ show up tomorrow, and he _will not_ help Harry Potter. He will not tarnish his family name for this stupid boy he’s hated for the past four years. 

Yup. That was the perfect plan. He will stay in his common room for the entire day and not show up, and that will be enough to tell Potter that he will not help him. 

True to his own word, he ignored his grumbles of hunger and stayed in his dorm all day, and all he ate was Parkinson’s sandwich and Goyle’s half-eaten lime tart. It was terrible. He’d never been this hungry before and he now wished he’d at least went for dinner before it got dark. 

“There’s supper, you know. McGonagall’s giving out some breakfast food,” Pansy said, and it was probably the only time he’d ever listened to her properly. 

He rushed out of the common room, and in his haste he didn’t see the bright red Gryffindor sweater in front of him; which grew hands and grabbed his sleeve. 

Draco was terrified. And appalled, and angry, and feeling very much harassed. Stupid, stupid Potter was in front of him, all smiles and flushed cheeks- _God, why was he blushing?_ -and messy dark hair. This had to be a hate crime. Was this revenge for nearly breaking Longbottom's wand? 

“I didn’t see you at all today,” Harry said, looking at Draco with stupid puppy eyes and fake disappointment. Draco has honestly never seen anything more repulsive. He was going to throw up, and he hoped the contents of his stomach landed on Potter’s Firebolt. Why was his Firebolt even with him? Did he just come out of practice? And why was Draco so _bothered_ by it? 

“I am not obligated to help you. Now can you please for Merlin’s sake go away? I am starving and I will not be seen talking to you.” Draco said through gritted teeth and pushed past Potter who looked wounded- and Draco was now more sure than ever that he would gladly lose 50 House points if it meant Potter would end up with a broken nose that an _Epipskey_ can’t fix.

“I knew you’d be hungry so I got you something from McGonagall,” Potter grinned, and Draco groaned. This was the worst day of his life, he’s positive of it. He was also sure if he told his father about this Potter would be sent to Azkaban immediately, and he now added that into his bucket list.

“Will you _please_ leave me alone?” Draco pleaded, and he hoped idiot Potter could hear the despair in his voice. But apparently he had no idea about social queues and he shook his head _very_ happily, and thrusted a lunchbox into Draco’s hands. 

“Well, at least eat with me if you don’t want to help me. I just got out of practice and everyone else is in their common rooms.” Harry said, and Draco was going to cry out of frustration. Because for a second he felt bad, because for one single second he was going to agree. 

“Will you leave me alone if I eat with you- Just. This. Once?” Draco said, very much astonished with himself. This was horrible. He could just _imagine_ what Parkinson and Blaise would say if they found out. 

Potter smiled that stupid smile again and shrugged. “No guarantees,” he said, starting to skip out of Dungeons whistling, leaving Draco behind in a mess. Potter is crazy, and _he’s_ crazier for agreeing. He really wished this was a one-time thing because he would rather get roughed up by the Whomping Willow if this happened more than once. 

They sat in the Great Hall with their food, and Draco watched in mild disgust as Potter wolfed down his eggs and ham. It was revolting. Did he grow up with any table manners? 

“Can you eat properly? You’re spilling egg yolk all over the place- you’re going to get it on your sweater!” Draco scolded, and pretended not to see- or hear -Potter giggling. Merely being within 5 feet of him was too much and this was really tipping him over. 

“Well aren’t you a Momma’s boy,” Potter smiled, and Draco now wished he just stayed in his common room. Hunger was a small price to pay if it meant he wouldn’t have to listen to all the nonsense Potter was spewing.

“Please just eat and shut up and Obliviate me later so that I’ll forget this ever happened.” Draco groaned and bit into his toast, ignoring stupid Potter’s stupid whistling. They ate in silence until the idiot boy opened his mouth again, and at this point Draco was ready to punch Potter’s face in but unfortunately, some teachers were still at the High Table- probably wondering why Draco was eating with Harry Potter. He tried to cover his face from Professor Snape who was squinting at them, and forked his omelet even faster into his mouth.

“So.. will you help me with Potions?” 

Draco was going to cry. 

“No.” 

“Why not? You’re amazing at it!”

“Yes, thank you for noticing,” Draco rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t mean I’ll help you though.” 

Harry pouted and went back to his food. This bothered Draco a bit, though he found it irritating that he didn’t know why.

“Why’d you need my help so bad? It’s not like you’re terrible at it,” Draco said. As much as he didn’t want to admit it- it’s true. Harry’s probably around the same level as him, just that he was vastly uncouth and couldn’t truly appreciate the art of potion making. He was also incredibly impatient and can not for the life of him follow instructions at all. Maybe he really did need Draco’s help. Either way, Draco was going to make sure that it won’t be easy to convince him- unless Potter wanted to purposely lose points for Gryffindor to get Slytherin back on top. Then _maybe_ he _might_ consider it. 

“I got a Poor on the essay last week.” Harry sighed, resting his head on his chin. His glasses were lopsided and on the verge of breaking again, and for some reason Draco’s bothered by it- so he took out his wand and rolled his eyes when Harry looked at him with terrified eyes. 

“Stay still,” he said, preparing to fix Harry’s glasses, but he squirmed around and was still trying to finish the last of his ham. 

“Stay _still_.” 

Harry’s eyes widened, and he went rigid. 

“ _Oculus Reparo_ .” Draco waved his wand and the bridge of Harry’s glasses straightened back to its original state. Draco kept his wand back in his pocket and frowned when Harry was still looking at him, eyes wide and twinkling. And was he _blushing_?

“What are you looking at?”

Harry immediately cleared his throat and stood up, wincing when the bench screeched. He rushed to grab his things and nearly tripped over his shoelaces, and bowed to Draco- a thank you would suffice but a bow’s good too, Draco thought -and rushed out of the Great Hall, and came running back in when Draco hollered that he left his Firebolt behind. His ham wasn’t finished and he still had half a piece of toast left, staring miserably at Draco. 

That was strange. That was very strange. Draco stood up, sighing; because he’s been weirded out enough for the past few days -and walked back to his common room, frowning. Harry was still expecting him to help with Potions, wasn’t he? But Draco didn’t explicitly agree either, so he’ll just not help. He’s got all the help he needs! His best friend was Granger, for Merlin’s sake. There’s no reason for Draco to help the idiot. 

And so Draco went to sleep; slightly content with himself in the knowledge that he still upheld some form of self-respect and dignity by refusing to help Potter. He hoped the idiot would stop pestering him -because Parkinson was already laughing at him for the lost House points and he really didn’t need any more embarrassment or humiliation. 

Yes. From now on, he’ll ignore Potter and keep to himself and he will- he _will_ punch his face if he bothers him again, no qualms, no hesitation. Potter will immediately end up in the hospital wing if he ever bothers Draco again.

So he fell asleep -and dreamt of dark hair and round glasses, and lied that it was hot in the night when Blaise asked why his face was so red in the morning.


	2. Moonstones

Draco didn’t like this. He did not like this at all. Potter was walking towards him- yes, stupid grin on his face -and Draco wants to be swallowed up by the ground. Or be sent to Romania, and have a Hungarian Horntail fry him to a crisp. Or be sent to Azkaban. Basically anywhere else that is  _ not  _ here. He can’t look at Potter’s face anymore after that dream last night -which he chose to forget about. It did  _ not  _ happen. He did  _ not  _ dream of Harry Potter. Why would he dream of Harry Potter? Why  _ did  _ he dream of Harry Potter? It was insane. No, he did not dream of Harry Potter. At least that’s what he chose to believe. 

“Hey Draco!” Potter grinned, way too happily for 9 in the morning. Parkinson was frowning, looking at Draco with eyes that held millions of questions, and Blaise was stifling his laughter. Draco was appalled. This was terrible. 

“Go- go away!” 

Potter slotted himself between Blaise and Pansy -who was now red with pure anger. If this was under normal circumstances Draco would be having a field trip with how dramatically her nostrils flared up and just how much she resembled a troll, but he had much more pressing matters to deal with, namely the idiot staring at him right now. 

“I will not stop pestering you until you help me with Potions,” he dared to smile, leaving Blaise nearly snorting his orange juice out of his nose. Draco was going to kill him. He leaned forward, palms pressed firmly on the table and lifted himself off the bench. 

“Leave. Me. Alone.” 

Potter didn’t budge. It was only when Granger and the Weasel came to pull him away did he move, and even then he was still smiling like a lunatic and yelling at Draco. 

“I won’t stop ‘til you agree!” 

Draco had never been so embarrassed in his life. Almost everyone in the Great Hall was looking between him and Potter, and even the teachers at the High Table had their necks craned out to see what was going on. By now Blaise was nearly falling off his chair and Pansy truly looked half-troll, and all of Draco’s blood had travelled to his cheeks. Every single time he thinks Potter can’t possibly embarrass him any more he one-ups himself, and this was really taking the cake. 

They didn’t see each other anymore after breakfast (thank God) and Draco headed over to one of the spare classrooms for revision, because Blaise was getting on his nerves and he really didn’t want to hear what happened during breakfast repeated over seventy times in the common room. OWLs were coming up and he had to focus and maintain his grades if he didn't want a rougher time at the Manor during the holidays. 

The spare classroom he used was sometimes occupied by Peeves; because a  _ poltergeist  _ of all things just  _ has _ to use a blackboard to scheme out pranks. The Weasel twins were sometimes in there too, planning with Peeves and coming up with items for their store. It was annoying -especially when Draco had nowhere else to go and had to put up with their nonsense while he worked. But today was a rare time where he had the room all to himself, and he considered it Heaven-made. 

He sat down and took out his papers and started his work in silence, until an insistent rapping on the door sounded throughout the room. It couldn’t be Peeves -he never knocked at all, even though Draco has said countless times to do so. He slowly got up and moved towards the door, the knocking becoming more fervent than ever. Just as he was about to turn the handle, it swung inwards and hit him hard in the face, and Draco knew his nose was broken. 

“Oh my- oh my God, oh my God, okay, wait, just- go sit down,” a voice stuttered, and Draco’s eyes immediately shot open. His nose was no longer a worry -because Harry Potter was in front of him. 

“Potter? What are you- How-” 

“Just sit down! Your nose is bleeding-” 

“All bloody thanks to you!” 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, just- go sit down. I’ll be back super quick,” Harry sputtered, and in a flash he was gone, bag dropped and books scattered all over the place. Draco was going to cry. How did he find him? This was getting too much too quickly. He’ll have to report Potter for harassment otherwise he’ll truly go insane. 

Potter was back in the classroom within minutes, holding a huge ball of.. Draco didn’t know, but Potter dropped it into his hands and told him to hold it up his nose. He looked pretty apologetic, so Draco only grunted. He didn’t deserve a thank you yet, but Draco thought he’d be wasting his breath if he scolded him again. 

They sat in silence, Draco still fuming and glaring at Harry while the idiot scratched his head and apologised again. The blonde groaned and started on his work, because at this point they may as well just stare at each other for the entire day and that would mean Draco wouldn’t get any work done. He knew what Harry was going to ask -and as much as he wanted to refuse again, he didn't want to get embarrassed any further, so with a sigh, he called Harry over to sit beside him. 

“You still want help or no?” 

Harry grinned, and for some reason, Draco didn’t really want to punch him as much this time. 

“Right, so what are the properties of Moonstone?” 

Harry blinked. “What? That’s too easy, give me something harder,” he said cockily, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.  _ Now  _ Draco felt like punching his face.

“Well, if it’s so easy for you, why did you get Poor on the essay? It was about Moonstone,” Draco quipped, and took immense pleasure in seeing Potter’s face go red. He shifted in his seat and coughed, saying something about forgetting and busy and was definitely making up excuses. 

“Moonstones are of rare-” 

“Medium.” 

“-Medium value, and  are a milky colour and shine very brightly.” Potter said, smirking proudly as if he’d just done something of great valour. Draco did not like it. It was stupid, he looked stupid, (pretty damn good) and Draco thought it was the worst (best) thing he’s ever seen in his life. 

“Alright, smartass. When powdered which potion is it used for?” 

Potter scoffed. 

“Draught of Li-” 

Draco raised an eyebrow, and stifled his laughter as Potter frowned and tried to reach for his Potions textbook. 

“Draught of Living..Death..” Potter mumbled, slowly looking up at Draco who was now bursting into fits of laughter. His nose had stopped bleeding, and even though Harry knew he was the butt of the joke here he laughed along with Draco, and soon the room filled with echoes of both boys’ boisterous laughter. 

Draco wiped away the mirth from his eyes and shook his head, before flipping Harry’s textbook to the proper page. “Here. Draught of Peace,” he managed to choke out between breaths and Harry only rolled his eyes; but he was still smiling widely. 

“Of course I knew that,” he said, taking the textbook back from Draco’s hands. “I just said that to test you.” Draco snorted, and Harry grinned wider. 

“Whatever you say, Potter.” 

They went over the properties of Moonstones again (10 times, until Harry could recite them by heart) and reviewed how to brew a Strengthening Solution. Draco realised that Harry liked to laugh at random times -and as much as it should annoy him, it didn’t, for some strange reason. In fact, he found himself relaxing around Harry, laughing along with him; and he had to admit, it was the most he’d ever laughed for a very long time. Harry liked to make a fool of himself whenever he got something wrong -taking away the seriousness of it all, and Draco could briefly forget that he was supposed to be hating him, not sitting with him and talking about wand motions for a Shrinking Solution. 

Time seemed to zip by instantly with Potter, because when Peeves came to kick them out they'd already missed dinner and the sun was fading away, and Draco didn’t want to admit it, but he had a good- no, he had an  _ okay  _ time with Harry. Draco hadn’t even processed the dream he had the night before; he sure as hell wasn’t going to process the 8 hours he had just spent with Harry. 

“Uh, thank you. For today. And sorry about your nose,” Harry said once they crossed the courtyard, and Draco nodded. He didn’t really know what to say, because this was the first positive interaction he’d ever had with him. So he nodded and waved -albeit reluctantly, because his hand moved before he got to stop himself -as Harry ran towards the Gryffindor Tower. 

He dragged his feet back to the Slytherin common room, wishing he just stayed in the classroom -yes, even with Peeves; because now he had to explain where he went and he really didn’t want to think back on the fact that he had just spent all day with Potter. God, what was he  _ doing _ ? He should be hating him! He should be thinking of ways to get him expelled or something, but no, he just spent 8 hours with him,  _ alone _ ,  _ voluntarily _ ! It was insane. He was going insane. 

He walked through the portrait hole as quietly as he could, because maybe Pansy was already up in her dorm. She always liked to go and gossip to Bulstrode after dinner, didn’t she? Yes, she did. She wouldn’t wait for him, why would she? It’s not like they were dating or anything. 

But there she was, seated on the loveseat, staring at Draco with daggers in her eyes. She put her Herbology book down and crossed her arms, looking a bit troll-ish again -and Draco, despite getting a little shaky, tried with all his might not to burst out laughing. 

“Where were you? You were gone  _ all day. _ Did you forget what we were supposed to do?” She said, looking more and more troll-like as each second passed. Her face was horribly red, too, and Draco was once again reminded of why she got on his nerves constantly.

“Do what? Prank Longbottom again?” 

Pansy’s eyes flicked everywhere, and she shrank a bit into the loveseat. “Well, yes.. but other things too- duelling Justin?” 

Draco snorted. “Justin? He can’t even cast  _ Alohomora  _ if he tried. Why’re you so bothered?” He sighed, flopping down onto the sofa opposite Parkinson. She started to look part troll again, and Draco had to look anywhere but her, lest he end up thrown outside with no knowledge of the new password. 

“Alright. Fine. Then where were you?” 

Draco closed his eyes and uttered a silent prayer. 

“Studying. You know I don’t study here. So bloody noisy,” Draco said. Pansy shot up from the loveseat with so much strength it screeched and got pushed backwards, and by now a few curious First-Years were watching the sight unfold. 

“Studying,” Pansy nodded, eyes squinting. “You were with Potter, weren’t you?” 

Draco’s eyes shot open, and he scrambled to sit up straight. “What? No! Didn’t you see how I-” 

“He ran after you when you left during Breakfast. Granger had the Map. All it took was a small bit of threatening to find out where you were,” Pansy snarled, and Draco’s heart was racing a million miles a minute. This was bad. This was very bad. 

“I-”

“You know you can’t even talk to him! You know the people he associates with!” Pansy shrieked, and from the corner of his eye Draco saw Blaise walking towards them, confused, and he stood beside Draco, hand resting on his shoulder. “What’s going on? Wha-” 

“Draco’s been hanging out with Harry,” Pansy said. “Harry Potter.” She continued, as if people didn’t already know which Harry she was talking about. 

Blaise only raised an eyebrow. “So?” 

Draco was terrified, but he also felt like giving Blaise a huge kiss. It was strange. 

“So? What do you mean, so?” Pansy yelled again, looking very much like a troll now. It was the only thing preventing Draco from bursting into tears, actually. 

“Potter hangs out with Weasley. And Granger!” Pansy said, so angry her lip quivering. “He hangs out with a  _ mudblo- _ ” 

“I think that’s enough,” Blaise said coolly, getting Draco on his feet. “Go to bed, Pansy.” 

Pansy was still fuming, her hair all over the place, almost like it was electrocuted in the wake of her anger. The First-Years were still hanging around the stairs, staring at her wide-eyed. 

“What are you looking at? Want me to turn you all into goats?” She yelled, pointing her wand at them, and they dispersed back into their dorms. 

“Are you alright?” Blaise asked, and Draco nodded. It was pretty obvious that he wasn’t, but he’d had enough drama for one day and it wasn’t like he was flat-out crying or anything. 

“Do you- do you mind?” Draco said quietly, and bit his lip when Blaise cocked his head to the side. “About Potter.” 

Blaise laughed. Like, really laughed. Like the throw-your-head-back-and-almost-cry kind of laugh. It was a bit extensive but Draco sat on his bed and stared at him through the entirety of it, shrugging when Crabbe and Goyle walked in with confusion on their faces. 

“Do I mind? Do I- Of course I don’t, you idiot! It’s not any of my business who you like,” Blaise grinned, and Draco sighed, until it dawned on him what Blaise said. 

“LIKE? I don’t like him! God, I hate him! I- he’s- stupid! And shameless, and stupid,” Draco said immediately, eyes wide and heart pumping again.  _ God _ , to like Harry Potter? It was outrageous! 

“Okay then. Whatever you say.” Blaise laughed, ducking when Draco threw one of the apples on his nightstand at his head. 

Draco laid on his bed, though it was a while until he fell asleep. Parkinson’s words kept on floating in his head. What if she told his parents? That would be an utter disaster. Things were already going horrible at home because his parents got caught up with the wrong people -now they were heavily in debt, and even though they made loads it was still a pretty worrying number. If news of it went out to the Ministry.. Draco’s father might lose his job, too, and that was a horrifying thing to happen. 

Perhaps Parkinson was right. He should probably stop talking to Potter. But he also wanted to continue doing so, because even though Potter was always 6 feet up his own ass he was funny, and he listened to Draco -like  _ really  _ listened, even though Draco couldn’t judge anything off an 8 hour interaction.

Draco came up with a compromise. He’d still talk to Potter, but only until OWLs. Once OWLs started, he would never be within Potter’s 5 feet radius again. It was the perfect plan. Potter would score an Outstanding, Draco would be distracted from the shit that’s going on at home, and then they would never speak to each other again. It was good- everything would be alright. 

Draco bit his lip. Potter’s name was still swimming around his head, Potter’s stupid laughter was still in his head, Potter trying to stop his nosebleed was still in his head, Potter, Potter, Potter. 

He wanted to cry. This was not how he wanted his night to go. Groaning, he shut his eyes and tried to go to sleep and will thoughts of idiot Potter away, but they still found their way to his head, flashing like a movie that stubbornly won’t stop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! i hope u liked this chapter :D. i know i said id update once a week but my hands got itchy lol so here u go<3
> 
> i had, surprisingly a lot of fun writing this! probably the most fun i've had writing tbh. i liked the Moonstone and Parkinson bit the best, because i like Parkinson slander >:)
> 
> anyways, pls leave kudos nd comments! tell me which bit u liked, i always love to hear your what u say<3  
> rmb to stay safe nd drink water!!


	3. West Wing

Potter was late to Divinations the next day; hair wild and shirt barely tucked in -which Draco pretended not to see because he figured Potter being in his head the whole of last night was punishment enough and he couldn’t bare to look at his face now lest he punch him for being too good looking or something.

Draco was glad he convinced Pansy not to take Divinations the year before. At first it was because he wanted at least one class to attend without having to listen to her annoying chattering, but now he found another reason -which was to absentmindedly stare at the back of Potter’s head as he fumbled with straightening his tie. He drummed his fingers against the edge of his table, and it halted immediately when Harry turned around to look at him with a grin. 

“I can’t pay attention,” he whispered, and Draco jerked his hand away from the edge of the table like he just touched burning coal, and fought the urge to bounce his leg now. 

“Sorry,” he whispered back to Harry, but the boy only smiled and turned back to Professor Trelawney.

His fingers itched to make noise again, but he crossed his arms instead and gnawed on his lip. If Blaise saw what happened he said nothing, only making googly eyes at Draco whenever they happened to look at each other. Draco wanted to hit him, because how dare he make fun of him, but as the minutes ticked by and as he felt more and more uneasy staring at Potter’s messy black tresses he could probably figure out why. Potter was.. nice. And funny. Maybe,  _ maybe _ he wasn't as bad as Draco thought he was.

But he was a bit behind on Divinations, so he reluctantly tore his eyes away from the back of Potter’s head and looked at the blackboard, writing down notes -but occasionally his eyes would drift back to Potter and he’d pinch himself to keep from staring at Harry any longer. 

He half expected Potter to jump at him after school and drag him away to their - _ his _ \- spare classroom (it probably belonged to him now since no one ever used it apart from the occasional Peeves and Weasel twins) but Parkinson was standing outside, arms crossed and sporting a scary grin. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” she said, already pulling Draco down the stairs by his collar. Anger bubbled in his chest and he forcefully snatched her hand away from his robes.

“What are you, my mother?” Draco sneered, and turned to climb the other flight of stairs to his right but was harshly dragged away again by Pansy, and Draco was starting to regret lashing out at her because now her face was starting to get red and troll-like very fast.

Draco unwillingly let himself get pulled away by Pansy until they reached the West Wing near the library, and that was when Pansy dropped her hand from Draco’s shoulder. She looked a bit disgusted with the contact, too -so at least Draco wasn't the only one who felt immensely uncomfortable. 

“I’m not letting you fool around with that Half-blood,” Pansy said, her annoying voice reverberating around the empty hallway. 

Draco  _ knew  _ he shouldn’t. It’s been clear to him since he could read and write that he’s only to converse and be around Purebloods, but he always thought it was silly. Most Purebloods were Slytherins and though he had a lot of pride for his house he thought being around the same type of people for so long was sickening and suffocating.

“I’m not- I’m not  _ fooling around _ ,” Draco said weakly, and Parkinson narrowed her eyes. “..Just helping a classmate out.” 

“Listen, Malfoy. I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but just don’t embarrass yourself,” Parkinson said, before smiling deviously. “You don’t want to end up like Andromeda, do you?” 

And just like that, she left, leaving Draco behind with balled up fists and a glare that could kill. 

He definitely wasn’t going to follow her. He won’t take her silly threat seriously, as terrifying as it was. He knew she wouldn’t do anything like that. His family had done a lot for the Parkinsons -and had more power over them too, which would come in handy if Pansy really did try something. But even that was getting unlikely because of how much debt his family’s accumulated, and that’s a whole other problem Draco doesn’t want to think about. 

He waited until he was sure Parkinson was gone, and then sneaked further off into the West Wing to the spare classroom. He wasn’t sure if Potter was there, but he found himself getting disappointed at the thought of him not being there and he groaned, before quickening his pace. 

Slowly he pushed the door open, and broke into a huge smile when he saw Potter sitting on a table with a large piece of parchment. He saw a few faint footsteps moving around and dropped his bag on the floor. 

“Stalking me, Potter?” 

Harry shrugged and folded the parchment into his pocket. “Well, you were late. Naturally I’d get worried,” he smiled, and Draco had to turn around to will away the blush creeping up his face.  _ It’s just Potter _ , he thought.  _ Get a grip! _

When he faced Harry again he was suddenly looking at him with softer eyes, and Draco’s fingers started twitching a little anxiously. It looked like Potter knew something he didn't, and Draco did not like that Potter looked like he knew something he didn’t. 

“What did Parkinson say to you?” Harry asked, crossing his arms. Draco bit his lip. Now he wished he’d just kept the map when Parkinson had it a few days ago.

“Nothing,” Draco said. He didn’t want Potter to know the things she said about him or Granger. “Just the new password.” It was a lame excuse, but he couldn’t think of anything else in the moment. 

“She dragged you all the way to the West Wing just to tell you the password?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow, and Draco rolled his eyes. Slytherins weren’t nearly this nosey, now that he thought of it. Maybe his mother had a good reason telling him to stay away from Gryffindors. 

“None of your business, Potter. Just let me teach you Potions and keep quiet.” 

Harry grinned that infuriating Potter grin, and Draco’s heart soared a bit.

“No guarantees.”

The time ticked past in a blur, and Draco knew Parkinson was going to murder him when he went back to the common room, but he didn’t really care. All he did seem to care about now was the boy beside him, this dark-haired, green-eyed boy who still can’t memorise the recipe for a Beautification Potion even though that's what they've been going through for the past hour.

“How many petals are you supposed to pluck?” 

Potter sighed and drummed his fingers against his head, and Draco looked on in barely containable adoration. 

“S..seven?” 

Draco raised his eyebrows. “Impressive,” he grinned, and laughed when Harry puffed up his chest with pride. 

“And what do you do after that?”

Harry pretended to think, before jumping up suddenly. He tried to reach for his Potions textbook but it was quickly snatched away by the blonde, and before he knew it, Harry was laughing and clambering over him to get his textbook, and in the mess of limbs Draco’s chair nearly tipped backwards and Harry quickly caught Draco before he fell over, but as the chair tipped and descended noisily on the floor, Draco realised that Harry was  _ incredibly  _ close to him, and they weren’t laughing anymore. Draco was close enough to see Harry’s scar in full detail -a scar that he acquired from a rough Quidditch match. Draco always thought it was just a jagged line on his forehead, but it was actually in the shape of a lightning bolt, and Draco swallowed, because now if he leaned in a bit closer, their noses would touch, and then their lips..

And then Harry pulled away, hurried and panicky and as if he’d just seen a ghost. Draco’s heart was slamming in his chest, and as he rushed to prop the chair upright Potter was packing up things and when Draco looked up, he was gone, leaving only the door wide open and his Potions textbook still on the floor. 

Draco’s heart sank, for some stupid reason. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was just supposed to tutor Potter and make sure he passes his OWLs! Not.. whatever that was. Now Potter will hate him, and probably never show up again. 

Draco bit his lip, and took a shaky breath. He supposed he could avoid Potter now and Parkinson would be happy. He sighed and packed up his things, and right before he left he saw Potter’s textbook on the floor, looking as sad as his feelings. God, he felt pathetic. 

He bent down and grabbed the book, looking at it for a few seconds before sighing again and shoving it into his bag. He’ll return it during Breakfast the next day, then avoid Potter. There was no way he could ever show his face again in front of him, let alone actually talk to him again. He just  _ had  _ to mess things up, didn’t he?

With another sad sigh, he shuffled out of the classroom and back to his common room, ignoring Parkinson’s childish comments and Blaise asking him if he was alright. He just wanted to sleep off whatever that had just happened and pretend that everything was alright at least in his dreams. 

But try as he might, he just couldn’t fall asleep, because his mind kept on flashing back to the spare classroom and Potter being in his face and then running out of the room like Draco had hexed him. 

And why was Draco so bothered by it? Sure, he’d admit that Potter was, well, maybe a  _ little  _ good looking. But Draco doesn’t  _ like  _ him, does he? That would be horrendous. His parents would murder him for merely talking to a Gryffindor, but  _ liking  _ one? And a boy, at that!   


No. It was outrageous. No, he (totally) does  _ not  _ like Harry Potter. He’s probably just lonely, and probably just needs a change from his 24/7 Slytherin company. Yes, that’s all there is to it. So what if he’s disappointed he couldn’t spend more time with Potter? All friends were like that, weren’t they? 

But as the evening crept past and the more he tossed and turned in his bed, he couldn’t help but feel like he was lying, lying _horribly_ to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! i am so so sorry it took so long for this chapter to come out, i had a lot of things to do for school so i couldn't write as much as i wanted to. but i'm back with a new chapter!!
> 
> tbh i kind of feel like this chapter isn't my 100% effort, maybe in the future i'll rewrite and touch up on a few things, but i also didn't want to take too long to update so here it is :)
> 
> i hope u liked this chapter anyway and thank u so much for reading! stay safe nd ily<3


	4. Room of Requirement

Potter didn’t show up to Breakfast the next day. And for the entire day, even missing out on Quidditch practice, which he _never_ missed. Not that Draco would know, of course. It was just an observation. 

Draco had to swallow up his pride to walk over to the Gryffindor table and ask the Weasel and Granger where Potter was, but they gave vague answers and mostly ignored Draco for a good 15 minutes. Seething, he stormed back to his table and pretended not to see Parkinson snickering at his failed attempts. 

“Seems like your little friend doesn’t want you, Malfoy,” Pansy grinned meanly, and Blaise had to stop Draco from pulling out his wand and hexing her. 

“You know how she is,” Blaise sighed, patting Draco’s back. He was still fuming, and even his face had gone red and it looked like he was coming down with a serious fever. He couldn’t pay attention in class all day, because he was worrying about stupid Harry Potter. 

He was angry. It should be _him_ avoiding Potter, not the other way round! He started.. whatever happened in the classroom that day and Draco didn’t even do anything creepy. Maybe except for blushing really, _really_ hard but who wouldn’t if you were that close to Harry Potter? Hundreds of girls would love to be in Draco’s shoes at that moment, but if this was what would happen after Draco pitied the girls that had a crush on him.

And coupled with the fact that he couldn’t go _anywhere_ without reporting to Parkinson -he was in a pretty shitty mood by nightfall. Every small thing made him angry and he nearly casted _Incendio_ on a poor Second Year’s homework because he had asked him why he was moping around. 

“I’m sure he’s alright, Draco,” Blaise said after a few hours of Draco sulking, and rubbed his jumper-clad arms. “And you’re making it snow, mate.” 

Draco looked up and true enough, little snowflakes were falling slowly from the ceiling and coating the sofa with a thin layer of snow. He groaned and shook them out of his head while Blaise casted _Finite._

“Ugh, sorry. I don’t even know why I’m so bloody bothered by it.” He said, blowing out a breath. 

Blaise shot him an apologetic look while thumbing through some Muggle book he -supposedly- got from Granger. They were getting a bit chummy, Draco noticed, and he wondered how Blaise hasn’t gotten the same lashing from Parkinson yet. 

He bit his lip and looked at the fireplace for a few seconds, before standing up with sudden valour. “I’m going to look for him,” Draco announced, and met with only silence. He sank back down on the sofa with a reddening face as Blaise wheezed, and huffed when he nudged Draco’s shoulder.

“Alright, Sherlock,” Blaise grinned, and Draco only frowned. 

“Sherlock?” 

Blaise was blushing now, and awkwardly placed the Muggle book behind him. “Some Muggle detective.” 

Draco nodded. Well, Sherlock or not, he was going to find Potter, even if it meant he had to blow up the entire Gryffindor Tower. He knew he could just slip in a note and (hopefully) get one back from Harry, but at this point if even his friends didn’t know where he was, it was a huge problem and he figured he should act before Harry drowned in the lake or something. 

“How _are_ you going to find him, anyway?” Blaise questioned as Draco wore his cloak and slipped Harry’s Potions textbook, an extra cloak, and his wand into his bag. “Parkinson’s got you locked up here.” 

Draco bit his lip. That was true. 

“I don’t see her around,” Draco said, attempting a brave smile. He was terrified. It was bad enough to sneak off without her knowing and it’d be much worse if she knew he was sneaking off to find Potter. 

_Carpe diem_ , he thought, recalling that phrase from a Muggle movie he had watched with Blaise last Christmas. His parents weren’t really too crazy about Pureblood mania, which was probably why Draco’s family had told him not to get too close to him. How that backfired. 

He gave Blaise a nervous wave before looking around one last time for Parkinson, and once satisfied that she wasn’t anywhere near the common room, he slowly crept his way up the stairs and out the door, wincing when the door slammed behind him. 

At night, the castle -especially the dungeons- was chillier and much more ominous, the Autumn moonlight streaming in from the various shapes and figures in the windows, casting shadows dancing along the floor. Even though Draco’s been sleeping under the castle’s roof for a little over four years he was still vastly unfamiliar with most corridors and hallways, more so in the dark. It didn’t help that he had a (tiny) fear of the inky black too, so he tried not to think too much of shadows following him and quickly shuffled towards the Gryffindor Tower. 

As he neared the stairs, he heard faint sounds of bickering at the top, and as he slowly climbed his way up he could make out two figures -one of them with wild, bushy hair and the other with bright ginger. Draco tried not to cringe. Granger and the Weasel were arguing -probably much louder than they thought their volume was. 

“..How was I to know he’ll run off like that?”

“You know his temper!”

“What, are you saying I’m _wrong_ for telling him what’s best for him?” 

“Merlin, Hermione, you’re not his mother. And I bet even his mother wouldn’t have a problem with it!” 

Granger was about to retort angrily, but Draco took that moment to step between them and as they took a few seconds to look at him and then jump like they’ve gotten the nastiest shock of their lives, he stood there awkwardly, wondering if he’d come between a lover’s spat. 

“Malfoy.” Granger said with distaste, which Draco was used to. He wasn’t exactly a saint towards her, calling her horrible names the past few years. But that was when he had believed every single word his parents said about Muggleborns, and right now he found he didn’t feel as strongly opposed to Granger as he was years ago. But he’d apologise to her later. He had far more important things to worry about now. 

“Malfoy!” Weasel said with a little less distaste, looking at Draco as if he was some shiny object. “What are you doing here?” 

Draco scratched his neck. He’d been so confident earlier, but now that he had to say what he was doing in front of these two -Harry’s _real_ friends, he found he had nothing to say. 

“I’m- uh,” 

Weasel and Granger looked at him curiously, and Draco could see cogs turning in their heads, though Granger’s cogs were turning much faster than the Weasel’s. 

“Are you looking for Harry?” Granger said finally, and Draco couldn’t do anything but nod. She scoffed, before digging around in her pocket and pulling out the Marauder’s Map, unfolding it hurriedly. 

“Good luck with that. We’ve been trying since we woke up,” Granger sighed, handing the map over to Draco. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here, but she only crossed her arms and watched carefully as Draco’s eyes raked over the map. 

“I’d go back to bed if I were you, Malfoy,” Weasel said glumly. “Even Hermione can’t find anything, and she’s _Hermione_.” 

Draco said nothing, eyes still squinting and looking closely at the left corridor of the seventh floor. There was something odd about it, a tiny marking behind the tapestry of Barnabas and the trolls. He casted a Lumos and looked even closer, and he smiled when his suspicions were confirmed. 

He’s heard of the Room of Requirement from the Weasel twins, when they were bragging loudly about their new big-scale prank. It was a hidden room behind the tapestry of Barnabas and the trolls, and was unplotted in the Marauder’s Map, probably because the makers didn’t know of such a room in all their time at Hogwarts, but if you walked past the tapestry of Barnabas three times and thought of what you needed, a door would appear, leading to a room where you could find whatever it was that you so desperately seeked.

The inhabitants of the room would also be unplottable, and Draco reckoned that Harry was inside the room right now. He’d already checked the West Wing -there was no one there, only the translucent footsteps of Peeves floating around. 

“I think I know where he is,” Draco grinned, and folded the map into his pocket. 

“Great, where is he then? Take us there. Or you know, we can go ourselves.” The Weasel smiled, and even though Draco knew he was Harry’s best friend he didn’t really want the Weasel to tag along with him. He’ll probably just complain that the castle was dark and creepy or being too cold.

“Let’s just wait for him, Ronald,” Granger said, looking between Draco and the bottom of the stairs. “I don’t want to see him so soon anyway, I’m angry enough.” 

“What? Are you his friend or not? He’s been gone for so long and you don’t want to even _look_ for your best friend..” 

Draco turned and rushed down the stairs before he could listen to any more of their bickering, as amusing as it was. They acted as if they’ve been married for years, and he only hoped Blaise didn’t see him and Granger as anything more than friends, though he thought he was a bit too late to hope for such a thing. 

He hurriedly made his way towards the seventh floor, because he was _sure_ he saw yellow eyes lurking somewhere in the dark. As scary as the castle was, Mrs Norris was far scarier and he hoped if he got caught lurking at night it would be at least after he found Harry.

He found the tapestry quickly, where Barnabas the Barmy was attempting to teach the trolls ballet -an attempt to make a fool out of them, but it’s been at least a century and yet no one has laughed at anything, so he might as well have been teaching the wall. He waved at Draco as the blonde neared the tapestry and then turned back to the trolls, waving madly with almost all his limbs.

Draco drew in a deep breath. Walk past the tapestry three times, think of what you need, and the door would appear. Simple enough. 

Draco walked to the extreme left of the tapestry with shaky legs and ambled across, repeating _I need to find Harry Potter_ in his head. He wasn’t even sure if he was doing it right, or if that was what he had to say, but he figured if he had the word ‘need’ in his thoughts the door should appear. Maybe he should have asked the Weasel twins about it since he was outside their common room a few minutes ago.

He continued this two more times, and once he crossed back to the extreme left he held his breath and waited. 

Nothing happened at first. Barnabas was still yelling at the trolls, the wall behind still remained the wall behind, and Draco didn’t hear anything that could signal a door being produced from thin air. 

But then, the ground shook beneath his feet, the bricks of the wall started shifting, the tapestry rolled upwards, and there it was. A huge, brown door with black swirls across it protruded out from the wall, looking almost as old and ancient as the castle itself. 

Draco stepped towards it, heart racing a million miles a minute. He touched the handle of the door slowly, as if it would vanish the moment he laid a finger on it, but nothing happened. The door was still there, the handle was still there, and Draco’s heart was still pounding. 

Slowly, he pushed the handle down, and when he opened it he was greeted with a warm smell of chocolate and sweets, and the room was basked in red and gold, a warm, crackling fireplace towards the left and a small shelf of books on the right. In the middle was a large sofa and on the sofa was Harry, who was munching on a tart while reading a book. 

“You skipped classes for this?” 

Harry looked up at Draco with those emerald green eyes, and Draco pretended his stomach didn’t feel strange. He dropped his bag and the extra cloak -it appeared Harry was more than warm enough. 

“Draco,” he breathed, setting aside the book and face reddening as Draco stepped closer towards him. He wanted to be angry -but for some reason he wasn’t. He figured it was probably the warmth of the place that made him calm, and definitely not the fact that Harry was safe and sound. 

“This looks a lot like your common room,” Draco said, grabbing a caramel nougat from the plate beside Harry. “Why didn’t you just stay in?” 

Harry bit his lip. He was looking at his lap, at the book, anywhere but Draco, and as much as it annoyed him he didn’t let it show, because he was sure he couldn’t look at Harry for any more than a few seconds too.

“Hermione was.. really angry when I told her about you helping me,” Harry said, scratching the back of his head. “Said you were- um..” 

Draco looked at him expectantly, but Harry’s blush grew redder and he brought his legs up to his chest and hugged them. 

“Well, she said things about you. I don’t think you’d want to hear it.” Harry said softly, and Draco broke into a grin. It seemed him and Potter weren’t that different.

“Pansy was angry too. _Dishonouring my bloodline_ , blah blah blah.” Draco laughed, and Harry only smiled. They sat in awkward silence, watching the wood crackle in the fire. 

“Um. I’m sorry about yesterday,” Harry squeaked, and now he wasn’t the only one blushing insanely hard. Draco wished he could forget that entire ordeal, and vowed to Obliviate himself of the memory in the future. 

“It’s fine.” Draco said hurriedly, because he really didn’t want to think about it any longer.

They sat like that again, the silence as loud as ever, until Draco remembered why he wanted to find Harry in the first place. 

“I got your textbook,” he said, walking over towards his bag and pulling Harry’s Potions textbook out. He’d actually written a few things inside -additional notes that really was unnecessary but in between worrying about Potter and Parkinson’s wrath he had nothing else to do. 

“Thanks.” Harry smiled, taking the textbook and opening it up to a random chapter. 

“Crush beans with a flat side of silver dagger, releases juice better,” Harry said, looking at Draco with a wide grin. It was one of the notes Draco had added, and now that Potter was reading them aloud he wondered if he should have just left the textbook empty. 

“It really _does_ release the juice better,” Draco huffed, a blush creeping up his neck as Harry continued flipping through his book and laughing as he pointed out other notes that Draco added in.

“Okay, since you’re so smart, Mr Potter, where are the finest Shrivelfig roots found?” Draco asked, trying to get Harry to focus on anything other than how utterly embarrassing it was that Draco had taken the time to add nerdy notes into his textbook. 

“Oh, you think I’m an idiot, Mr Malfoy. Abyssinia, of course,” Potter smirked, and Draco only grinned. 

“Alright, smartass. Why are daisies considered weeds?” 

“Because they thrive in inhospitable conditions and are resistant to bugs and magical pesticides.” Harry grinned, and Draco was thoroughly impressed. 

“Again, why do you need my help? You seem pretty fine on your own,” Draco said, taking a bite out of another caramel nougat. Potter only shrugged and mumbled something about not being top in class and went back to finding more notes Draco had added in. 

Draco watched as Harry flipped through the textbook, green eyes raking over words and smiling at the (not even funny) things Draco wrote in it. He supposed some of them were funny, like _Snape says to chop the roots finely but really he means our heads_ , but he didn’t know why Harry was laughing like he’d just read the funniest thing in the world. Draco thought he was doing too much but as he saw Harry laughing harder his lips slowly lifted up to a smile, then to a grin, until he was laughing along with Harry, equally as hard and until he had to take huge gulps of air and until his stomach hurt. 

He sat up finally after a few minutes and wiped the mirth away from his eyes, and watched as Harry did the same and took a few more breaths before closing the textbook. 

“I think.. if I read any longer I’m not going back to my common room,” Harry grinned, and Draco’s spirits suddenly sank a bit. He forgot ultimately they still had to go back to their common rooms, Draco was still probably going to get yelled at by Parkinson, and they probably won’t be able to meet properly again. 

“Why don’t we just stay here for the night?” Draco blurted, and his face flashed a horrible crimson red when Harry looked up, equally as shocked, face equally as red. 

“I mean- nothing will happen! I’m not even- I’m not sleepy anyways. You can sleep, I’ll just.. stay up and.. read, or something,” Draco stuttered, eyes wide and voice laced with horror. “Or we can go back to our common rooms! That’ll probably be better. Yeah, let’s do that-” 

He barely stood up before he was dragged back down on the sofa, and when he looked at Harry, the idiot had the audacity to _giggle_ , and God, Draco wished he hadn’t said anything at all. 

“I always thought you were like, super cool and collected. Nice to know you’re human like the rest of us,” Harry grinned, and Draco just smiled and rolled his eyes. 

They didn’t go to sleep that night, instead staying up to play exploding snap and eating sweets until their stomachs hurt, laughing and talking about Quidditch and Potions. Draco didn’t really have anything else to compare it to, but he thought that night was the best he’d ever had in his life, and found that he strangely _liked_ listening to Potter talk about why the Montrose Magpies were the best Quidditch team in the whole world. He _liked_ to look into Potter’s green eyes, and he _liked_ the way he said things, especially the way he said his name. 

He didn’t let himself get consumed by thoughts of his parents’ and Parkinson’s disapproval that night, or the slight anxiety of going back to his common room in the morning and having to explain where he was and what he was doing to Parkinson. He was going to enjoy that night, and that was what he did.

In the last hour they had before dawn, Potter laid across the sofa for some quick shut-eye, and Draco took that moment to look at him, basking in the faint light of the fire and the paper lamp beside him. Maybe Draco had feelings other than friendship in his mind, but he wasn’t going to act on those feelings, ever. He was perfectly content like this, looking at Harry’s black tresses and the steady rising and falling of his chest as he sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas everyone!! it'll be the 26th for me when i get this chapter out but nevertheless, merry christmas!! my love goes out for everyone struggling this christmas and i want u to know that ure so incredibly strong nd ilysm<3
> 
> anyways, im back with a new chapter! this is way longer than i thought it'd be lol but i like it! i hope u guys do too and rmb to drink water nd stay safe<3

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! i hope u guys liked this :D i actually came up with it on a whim so idk where or how it's gonna go so AHDJSKFJK 
> 
> i'll try my best to update frequently! for now i'll stick to a chapter a week, i think that's pretty okay :)
> 
> i hope u guys had a good day<3 stay safe nd drink water!!


End file.
